


To Work as One Alone

by CorellianKenway



Series: Assassin's Creed One Shots and Drabbles [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Assassin's Creed (Video Game), Depression, F/M, Gen, Hurt, I wrote this one shot for an English project two years ago, Inspired by Real Events, Loneliness, M/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Reader is gender neutral, References to Depression, Short One Shot, ig u can call it a reader-insert, reader and Altair are more of mentor/student, so I decided to upload it here, than lovers, this fic has mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorellianKenway/pseuds/CorellianKenway
Summary: You are a Novice Assassin.  After staying at the Bureau in Masyaf for about a year, you document your life there so far in a journal.





	To Work as One Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I remembered writing this one shot for an English project two years ago. Just wanted to post it here ^_^

June 20, 1190  
Assassin’s Bureau  
Masyaf, Syria

All morning I had been beating up the dummy. It was made of tough horsehide and was stuffed with animal skins and rocks, and was almost as tall as me. Today is June 20th, 1190 during the Third Crusade, and I am staying at the Assassin’s Bureau in Masyaf, Syria. Just last year, I had dedicated myself and joined the Assassin Brotherhood, a Brotherhood that stands for one true goal and purpose, that of peace. “Nothing is true, everything is permitted. We work in the dark to serve the light, we are the Assassins.” That is the motto for our Brotherhood. Since I am only a trainee and a novice, I must do as I am told, not questioning the ways of our order, our creed, our Brotherhood, and not disappointing our Master Assassin and mentor: Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad and the leader of the Brotherhood: Al Mualim. 

It has been a rough year so far. As usual, I wake up in the morning at 6:00 every day, having a slice of bread or some salted and dried pork for breakfast. After the quick meal, I immediately go to my Assassin’s training, which is punching and beating up a horsehide dummy using different tactics taught by the mentors until 12:00 noon. At 12:15 I go further into the Assassin’s Bureau to the arena to continue my lessons along with my fellow peers, other novices and some in the higher ranks, to perform the actual fighting, mainly with swords and the iconic Hidden Blade. The Hidden Blade is a blade concealed underneath the sleeve of one’s Assassin Robes that eject with a flick of the wrist. It requires massive skill to master this weapon in battle. Unfortunately, he grotesque procedure of terminating both ring fingers was needed in order to become a true Assassin. It was a horrible and painful process when the mentors used the giant butcher knives to slice off the fingers, but proved your worthiness to the Brotherhood. 

I stare down at my hands right now, running my remaining fingers over the hollow space where my ring fingers used to be. The only way to use the Hidden Blade was to get rid of them since they interfere with the blade itself. I watch at the center of the arena, with the scorching sun beating down on my sweaty back as Altaïr was demonstrating how to execute a proper punch and kick combo, and then going into combat with a novice. The student slipped from under his feet, landing on his back with a thud as the Master Assassin continued to explain how to keep your stance and avoid falling down. After another five hours of punching and kicking trainees and novices, we were assigned to the building to get a one hour rest. At 6:30, I made myself a quick “dinner” consisting of dried meats, bread, and milk, and trekked to the Assassin’s Bureau Library to check out history books of the ongoing war of the Assassins and the Knights Templars, _the enemy._ The high ranking Assassin, Malik Al-Sayf, had assigned us written work and writing prompts that we had to complete about the long history of the Assassin and Templar war. It was tedious work, considering that we had all of the physical training during the day. I usually finish writing an essay at 10 or 11 at night. I then go to sleep only to wake up and continue the life of an Assassin. 

As I said before, the year has been rough. It seems that if the other novices all have their own clique of friends and don’t even have a care in the world about the ongoing Assassin-Templar War or the Third Crusade War. I end up climbing a tall tree with my food during the mornings watching the groups of trainees chatting away with one another. Sometimes I even hear them spitting sly insults at Altaïr, Malik, and Al Mualim! It irritates me, but I don’t do anything about it because my lack of confidence and low self-esteem always blankets over me. I had received compliments here and there from Malik, observing my methods of remembering what Altaïr taught us, but I brush them off with a quick “Thank you,” or “It was really nothing.” Around me, no one notices my presence, which I thought was kind of a good thing, since an Assassin is to hunt in the shadows, to work in the dark to serve the light. I always tell myself that, along with a sentence that hurts me: _“I need to make friends.”_ The only problem was that I was just too shy to start the conversation first. Every day I sit alone when eating or resting, watching my peers. It hurts, a hollow ache in my heart, not like a stomach ache, but the feeling of someone you want to get to know ignoring you. I tell myself that Assassins do not get hurt over things like this. We must worry about the Templars, they could have the upper-hand in the war for all we know. Once in awhile I also hear the students gossiping of how others throw their punches or how weak the others were, and I just sigh in defeat. _Why can’t we learn to respect others? Why can’t we all work as a team? Why does ignorance blind us all? We aren’t enemies, the enemies are the Templars,_ I thought to myself. Some nights I even cry myself to sleep, it’s stupid considering that the Bureau is my home and the mentors have given me everything I had ever wanted rather than living on the streets like how I did before I became an Assassin, but it still doesn’t feel like home yet when everyone avoids you. Maybe, just maybe if I pull through this, I can find someone who can relate to me, who can feel my pain of being a loner, of not having any friends. Just maybe...


End file.
